The Slide into Hell
by IMTheresa
Summary: How did happy family man John Winchester become an angry demon hunter? A look not only at John in the early years following Mary's death, but Sam and Dean as well.
1. Chapter 1

**The Slide into Hell **

_Disclaimer_: I'm not Eric Kripke or any of the other talented people responsible for Supernatural, but I do like to take the characters to my sandbox every now and then. I hope they don't mind.

_A/N_: I thought I was idea-free, but I started thinking about how John reminisced with Dean that when he'd come home from a hunt, Dean would put his hand on John's shoulder and tell him it was okay. That was heartbreaking. Then I started thinking about how a friend of mine said he wanted me to write something from John's point of view. I'm not sure how those two ideas merged into what is going on with this story, but here ya go… This is really short and could be a one-shot, but I'd like to expand on it if you guys think it's worth pursuing. Feel free to let me know what you think.

oooOOOoooOOO

_Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven - John Donne_

oooOOOoooOOO

John Winchester sat in his car, watching the dark house. It was late and he had just pulled into the driveway, but he couldn't bring himself to walk inside. His two children were in the house and he knew that no matter how late it was, eight year old Dean would be awake and waiting for him. After finishing the job he'd set off to do, John called to check in and after relaying details of the hunt to his friend, Jim Henderson, the phone was passed to Dean. John assured the boy he was safe and would be home that night.

The car was completely still, the engine turned off, but John gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He'd been hunting and investigating the paranormal for nearly four years and had seen a lot of horrible things in that time. He knew it was ruining him, but he was afraid to stop. Part of it was the need to avenge his wife's death and he was no closer to finding what killed her now than the night Mary died. When he embarked down the road of revenge, he didn't expect it to take so long. He thought he'd find it and kill it, then be able to raise his sons in peace. But the longer it took and as he learned more, as he saw more, John began to realize he would never be able to stop. He would always have to stay one step ahead of the evil things in the world to keep his boys safe.

This job had been worse than some, but better than others. After dropping the boys off at Jim's, John met up with other hunters. There was a lead on a cursed object that some of them had hunted throughout the years. Whenever it would resurface, someone in their group would try to intercept and destroy it; this time they were determined not to fail. John was surprised to learn that the object was a silver baby cup cursed by the spirit of a mother whose child was stolen from her.

In the mid-1800's, the mistress of a wealthy landowner gave birth to a son. Determined to have a male heir, and having only had daughters with his wife, the man paid the midwife to take the child and convince the woman it had been a stillborn daughter. Crazed with grief and determined to prove the child was alive, the woman broke into the father's house a few weeks later. She found the silver cup in a nursery upstairs and, believing she had proof she needed, ran from the room in search of her child. She died after falling, or being pushed, down a flight of stairs while clutching the cup. Her death was covered up and it took the hunters many years to find out what really happened and trace down the curse.

The cup was passed down within the family for a few generations, but through an estate sale it ended up elsewhere making it harder to track. The spirit of the wronged woman would torment the man of the family that owned it, eventually causing his death. She often did this without regard for the children in the household and sometimes they were harmed in the attacks. John hated jobs that involved children; they left him with more of a feeling of hopelessness than normal and he longed to be with and protect his own sons.

John looked at the house when the porch light came on. He saw his friend open the door and young Dean stepped onto the porch in front of him. He suspected the boy had heard the growl of the Impala when he pulled into the driveway and he briefly wondered how Jim managed to keep Dean from immediately running outside to meet him. Taking a deep breath and summoning every ounce of strength he had, John opened the car door as Dean came bounding down the porch steps toward him.

In the driveway, John swept Dean into his arms, enjoying the feel of the little boy's arms around his neck.

"What are you still doing up, Dean?" John asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"I wanted to see you. There's no school tomorrow so it's okay."

"It's okay, huh?" John smiled at his son. "Where's your brother?"

"Sleeping. He's too little to stay up late like me."

John laughed and put Dean back on the ground before reaching into the car for his duffle bag.

"I can carry it for you." Dean said.

"It's pretty heavy."

"I'm strong enough."

John intentionally packed this bag light, knowing Dean would want to carry it for him. He had another bag in the trunk that he would retrieve after his son was asleep. It was still a bit of a struggle for the small boy, but Dean managed to get up the steps with his father close behind. John and Jim exchanged a look. The pastor knew exactly what John was feeling because they had talked about it often enough. Jim placed a hand on John's back as the hunter walked past him and into the house.

Dean was fighting to get the bag up the flight of stairs when John walked up behind him and easily picked them both up. He was a large man, just over six feet tall and broad. He kept in shape with vigorous exercises he learned from his days as a Marine. He easily walked over five miles once, both boys in his arms, when the car broke down on a back road.

In his bedroom, John put the bag on the floor and sat on the bed with Dean on his knee.

"Were you good for Pastor Jim?"

"Yes, sir. He let us go swimming in the lake, but Sammy had to wear water wings. And we watched a movie last night with popcorn and everything."

"Sounds like you had a good time."

Dean nodded as he leaned against his father's chest. He stifled a yawn.

"Time to turn in?" John asked.

Dean sat up. "Are you goin' to bed?"

"Soon. I want to talk to Jim for a few minutes."

"Did you get the bad guys?"

"Yeah, we did." John said. He wasn't able to hide the despondent tone from his son.

Dean looked into his father's eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Daddy."

John fought back tears. "I know, Dean. Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Slide into Hell **

**Chapter 2**

_Disclaimer_: See chapter 1

oooOOOoooOOO

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear --- H.P. Lovecraft

oooOOOoooOOO

John carried Dean to the room across the hall, where four year old Sam was peacefully sleeping.

"Did you brush your teeth?" John whispered.

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good man." John slipped him under the covers of the empty bed and sat on the edge. He smoothed Dean's blonde hair and smiled down at his son.

"Don't be sad, Daddy."

John's brow furrowed. "I'm not sad, Dean. I drove a long way today; I'm just tired."

Dean laid his hand on John's. "Do you like going after the bad guys, Daddy?"

John tried to keep his expression neutral. Sometimes his eight year old son was so perceptive that it scared him.

"Sometimes more than others."

"I want to help get the bad guys when I'm bigger."

Dean's words made John sad; he didn't want his sons to follow in his footsteps, but he was afraid they were doomed to do just that. He squeezed Dean's hand. "You have a long time to figure out what you want to do when you're bigger. Right now you need to close your eyes and go to sleep."

It didn't take long for the little boy to fall asleep. John quietly moved to Sam's bed and adjusted the blankets that covered him before leaning over to kiss his forehead. Sam didn't move and after watching him for a moment, John walked to the door. He paused just outside the room and turned around to look at his boys.

"Leave him alone." John whispered angrily. A moment later, he joined Jim in the kitchen.

Jim was sitting at the wooden table, a cup of tea in front of him and a beer for John. The hunter sat down across from his friend and took a long, grateful swallow from the bottle.

"They were here."

Jim looked at him. "Don't worry, they can't hurt him."

"Yet.."

Jim nodded.

"You want to tell me about the hunt?"

John took another swig from the bottle. "I told you everything on the phone. We got the cup. Joshua's probably got it melted down by now."

"You want to tell me about the hunt?" Jim asked again, patiently.

John leaned forward, his elbows on the table and hands wrapped around the bottle. "I've seen worse things, but the things some of the others said – some of the things that have happened because of that cup. How do you do it, Jim?"

"For one, I don't see the things you do. I stay here and gather information; pass it along. I help people who need it. But you and the other hunters, you're out there and you see things. But if you're going to survive in this business, you're going to have to harden your heart to what you see. You're helping people by doing what you're doing; ridding the world of evil –"

"Ridding the world? There's too much, Jim. We're not going to get rid of all of it."

Jim smiled at him. "Maybe not; but there's less of it because of you. People live in peace because of you."

"I don't live in peace." John drank more beer. "And I'm afraid my sons won't live in peace either."

"No one is holding you to this life, John. You can take your boys back to Lawrence and raise them around friends and family."

"They're with family when they're here." John said.

Jim smiled at him. "Thank you, John."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before John spoke again. "You know I can't go back to Lawrence. And I know too much, and not enough, to leave this life."

Jim knew what he meant. Despite all of their resources, they still didn't know what killed Mary. John's purpose these days was to identify it, find it, and destroy it. In the meantime, he learned what he could while helping as many people as he could along the way.

oooOOOoooOOO

Two days later, John and his sons were still with Jim. There was no immediate job and John appreciated the downtime to work on researching his wife's death. He felt at home with Jim and he knew Dean and Sammy enjoyed the atmosphere. Jim was great with them and there were other children around for them to play with. Dean had another few days of a school break so there was no rush to get back to the dingy apartment.

"Hi, Daddy."

John looked up from the file he was reviewing to see four-year old Sam standing in the kitchen doorway, clutching a well-worn blue blanket.

"Hi. Are you done with your nap already?"

Sam looked around uncertainly.

"What's wrong?" John asked, holding out his arms to the small boy.

Sam didn't hesitate before moving closer to his father. John scooped him up and settled him on his lap. "What's wrong?" he asked again, gently.

"I had a bad dream."

"I'm sorry, Sammy. But you know dreams can't hurt you, right?"

The small boy nodded. "Where's Dean?"

"He's playing next door at the church. Do you want to go over there?"

Sam shook his head. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Just some work." John said, pushing the papers away. Although Sam was only four, he could already read fairly well and John wanted to keep the file away from his curious eyes.

"Are you going away again?"

John squeezed him. "Not for a while."

"I don't like it when you're gone."

"I don't either, Sammy."

"The lights only come when you're gone."

John's blood ran cold. "What lights"

"Dean says I'm making it up."

"What lights, Sammy?"

"The lights I see floating in the dark. I only see 'em when you're not home, but Dean never sees 'em." Sam shrugged.

"What do the lights look like?" John asked.

"Like the fireflies we saw when we slept in the woods that time…." Sam said, busying himself with the blanket.

John held him more securely. "What do the lights do?"

"Just fly around my head."

"Do they scare you?"

"No. Not now."

"Not now? They used to scare you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but they will some day."

John held back a shudder and pulled Sam even closer.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Slide into Hell **

**Chapter 3**

_Disclaimer_: See chapter 1

oooOOOoooOOO

Responsibility's like a string we can only see the middle of. Both ends are out of sight - William McFee

oooOOOoooOOO

John was shaking when he dropped Sam off at the church daycare. He made sure Dean knew his little brother was there before going in search of Jim.

"John –" Jim's smile faded when he saw his friend's expression. "Come in; tell me what's wrong."

John walked into Jim's office and closed the door. He paced in the small room until Jim came around the desk and put his hands on John's shoulders.

"Talk to me, John. Are the boys all right?"

"He sees them, Jim. Sam sees the lights."

Jim's eyes widened. "What? How do you know?"

"He told me!" John growled. "He told me he sees them when I'm not there. And –"

Jim looked at him. "And what?"

"I asked him if they scared him and he said not yet, but they will." John sounded scared.

"It's okay, John. Just calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down? Sam can see the lights!"

"John, listen to me." Jim put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "We have to stay calm here. Where is Sammy now?"

"He's with Dean at the daycare. Jim –"

"Sit down." Jim said, firmly.

John started to protest, but Jim glared at him. "Sit."

John returned the glare, but sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Jim settled in the second chair.

"Okay." the pastor sighed and rubbed his face. "We thought you were the only one who sees the lights around Sammy, but Sammy sees them himself. But only when you're gone, you said?"

John shrugged. "That's what Sammy told me."

"That's interesting."

"What does it mean? They're stronger when I'm not around? He's more perceptive –"

Jim had to smile. "I don't think it's possible for that little boy to be more perceptive."

John leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Jim –"

"Sorry." Jim said quietly. "He said they'll scare him later?"

John went over the conversation in his head. "He said they would scare him _some day_."

"That makes sense. We know they aren't physical lights, but more like an aura. Your boy is going to develop abilities, John. That's what they indicate and we've talked about this before."

"But I never thought Sam would be able to see them. Does that mean he's already developing these abilities, whatever they are?"

Jim looked thoughtful. "Maybe so. Or maybe he's had them all along. He's very smart and, as we already said, perceptive. He's not like an average four year old."

"He's _not_ an average four year old. His mother is dead, his father is a demon hunter –"

"And you've done a good job of protecting him from all that. He thinks you're a cop chasing the bad guys."

"Is he safe, Jim? These lights –"

"They're a part of him, John. You need to understand that. They can't hurt him because they _are_ him."

"His mother died trying to protect him from something. This something must have wanted him for a reason. Was it these abilities?"

"I don't know, but that's a safe bet."

John stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I have work to do. I have to figure this out, Jim. Will you watch the boys?"

"Of course I will, but –"

"I'm just going to the library. Don't worry."

John stopped in the daycare yard, finding Sam and Dean on the swings. Dean saw him first and got Sam's attention before running to where John was standing. He knelt down with a hand on each of his sons.

"I have to go off for a little while, but Pastor Jim is going to watch you."

Sam's lower lip began to quiver. "You're leaving?"

"I'll be home in time for dinner, Sammy." John said. He squeezed Dean's arm.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's go play and Daddy can do his work. He'll be back soon."

Sam nodded sadly.

John pulled the boys close. "I'll be home in a couple of hours."

oooOOOoooOOO

John sat behind the microfiche reader at the library looking for newspaper stories and other sources to support his latest theory about whatever killed Mary. He felt a renewed sense of urgency to figure out what happened because he was sure that, somehow, Sam was in danger. The only way to protect his son was to be armed with as much knowledge as possible. The weapons arsenal he had amassed over the last few years wouldn't hurt either.

Armed with printouts, handwritten notes and charts in varying stages of completion, John left the library a few hours later. He knew now that he was dealing with a demon, but had no idea how to defeat it. He was also convinced that it wanted something from Sam and it probably had to do with whatever abilities he would develop. John still didn't completely understand the lights, or aura, as Jim called it. He didn't know why he could see them when no one else, but Sam, could. It was interesting to him that Sam was only conscious of them when John was gone because he almost always saw them floating around his son.

He knew that he had to increase the pace of Dean's training because he would need his help to protect Sam. Besides, Sam was still too young to really understand what was happening. Of course Dean was only eight and, himself, not fully capable of understanding. In fact, John didn't completely understand what was happening. All he knew was that a demon invaded his home, killed his wife, and stolen any peace that existed in the Winchester family.

John saw evil everywhere he looked and that wasn't due to simple paranoia. He knew about creatures that should only exist in nightmares and had seen many of them up close. He'd even killed a few. It wasn't the life he wanted for his children, but he felt powerless to protect them from it because it was more important to protect them from what existed.

After securing his work in the trunk, John sat behind the wheel of his car suddenly too exhausted to move. He put his head on the back of the seat, Sam's face appearing behind his closed eyes. The little boy looked so sad when John said he had to leave, even though it was only for a few hours. He was already close to his brother, but the bond needed to be strengthened. Sam had to learn to depend on Dean and Dean had to learn how to take care of his little brother. John knew his search for a way to kill the demon would take him from his boys more and more often.

oooOOOoooOOO

"John," Jim began later once the boys were in bed. "I understand how you feel and I agree with your assessment, but I have to disagree with your approach."

John had just spent the last couple of hours painstakingly going through his research with the pastor. He knew his conclusions were correct, but he needed the confirmation from his more experienced friend.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to protect your children, all fathers do, but I don't think boot camp and heavy training is the right way to go about this. They're little boys, John. They'll discover the evil in the world soon enough; don't show it to them now."

"They have to be able to defend themselves. I won't always be around. And I know I'll have to leave them on their own sometimes while I work jobs and search for a way to kill this thing."

Jim sighed. "I'm going to put you in touch with someone I think will be able to help you. His name is Daniel Elkins and he's got a lot of experience with demons. But I'm going to suggest something to you and I want you to think about it before you make a decision."

John looked at him.

"If you're so determined to go after this thing," Jim paused knowing how John would react to his idea. "I think you need to leave the boys with me. Permanently."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, I'm not. You can't be a father and do what you're planning to do. And you can't leave two small children alone – you can't travel all over the country with them. Dean is already in school and Sam will start soon enough. They're going to need an education and you don't have the time to tutor them – John, they deserve to have a normal life for as long as possible."

"You want me to give up my children?"

"Don't think of it as giving them up. Leave them somewhere safe; use this as your home base."

"I'm not putting their protection in anyone's hands but my own. I trust you and I know you mean well, but they're my responsibility."

"Then you'd better be prepared to be responsible for them."

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Slide into Hell **

**Chapter 4**

_Disclaimer_: See chapter 1

oooOOOoooOOO

**"There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance." Gilbert Parker**

oooOOOoooOOO

"Daddy?" Dean began as he stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. The Winchesters had been home for three days and John had barely said a word to him. He couldn't help but notice the extra attention his father was paying to Sam and though Dean tried not to let it bother him, it did. He couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong and he didn't think any of his teachers had called John.

John looked up from the book he was reading; it was something Jim had given him before they left the pastor's home. "It's late. What are you doing up?"

Dean shuffled his feet, uncertainly.

"Come over here." John said, holding out his hand.

The young boy hesitated a moment before moving toward his father. He settled on the couch next to him.

"What's wrong?" John asked gently. He knew he'd been ignoring Dean for the last few days, and though Dean was too young to understand, it was out of guilt. Against Jim's protests, John made his decision and was trying to come to terms with it before involving Dean.

"Did I do something wrong?"

John looked down at his son; Dean's wide hazel eyes seeming to bore a hole into his soul. He put his arm around Dean and pulled him close.

"No, Dean, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry for the last couple of days, but I've had a lot on my mind."

"Is something wrong with Sammy?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"You watch him all the time. Is he sick or something?"

Sam was extremely perceptive for a four year old and that sometimes made John forget just how perceptive his older son was as well. John squeezed his shoulders.

"Sammy isn't sick." John hesitated. "Dean, do you remember before Sammy was born? Remember how you would say you wanted to be the best big brother ever?"

Dean nodded, his eyes still wide.

"You've been a very good big brother and I'm proud of you." John felt his son relax next to him. "You do a really good job of helping me take care of Sammy, but I'm going to need more help from you. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Are you going away?"

John didn't look at him. "I'll be going after more bad guys, but not right now. I have a lot of things to do, though, to get ready for it. Sammy is still so little and he's going to need someone to help him."

"I can help Sammy, Daddy."

"I know you can." John rested his cheek on the top of Dean's head. "And I want you to start learning how to help me with the bad guys. I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself and how to use the weapons – and I'm going to teach you all about the bad guys. When Sammy gets older, we'll both teach him these things together."

Dean said nothing.

"Do you remember what you saw when your mom died?" John asked quietly after a few minutes, holding Dean close. "The fire?"

"Fire." the little boy whispered. "I heard you yelling and I came out of my room. Sammy's nursery was on fire."

"Dean," John moved so that they were looking eye to eye. "I don't want you to be scared, but if you're going to help, you're going to have to know what really happened to your mom."

In only a few words, John relayed the story of how what he now knew was a demon came into their home and killed Mary. It took hardly any time at all to steal the little boy's innocence and catapult him into the darkness where John had been living since he saw his wife pinned to the ceiling and bursting into flames. From that moment on, Dean was not only his confidant, but a fellow soldier in the war John had chosen to fight. No longer a carefree little boy, that night was the last time he sat next to John in a loving embrace and it was the last time he called John "Daddy".

He didn't tell Dean about the lights that radiated around Sam. He didn't tell him about the abilities Sam would likely develop. Those things he kept to himself. Dean and John protected Sam, kept him as much away from the darkness as they could until he was old enough to begin to understand. He would be trained beside Dean, but kept away from the battles to keep him safe for as long as possible.

Although it broke his heart to do it, John backed away from his younger son. He thought this was the best way to strengthen the more important relationship between Sam and his older brother. He watched it grow, as he'd wanted it to do, and he was proud of how Dean handled the responsibility.

oooOOOoooOOO

Three years since John sat on Jim's porch, staring at the trees at the back of his lot. Three years since he drafted Dean into his personal army; three years that he'd been working with Daniel Elkins. Daniel was an expert hunter and helped John hone the skills he already had while training him in new disciplines. He learned about more creatures that he already had knowledge of, learning how to hunt and kill each one. Daniel was an excellent teacher, but the men butted heads often. John was impatient to learn about the demon that killed his wife and Daniel was adamant that John learn things in a certain order; that he built upon his knowledge systematically.

Daniel didn't approve of John involving his sons in the quest. That was something they fought about often, usually with one of them taking a swing at the other. Daniel had yet to meet the boys because John left them with Jim when they were working together, but that didn't stop Daniel from voicing his opinions often.

Jim was a constant comfort to the hunter. While he didn't agree with all of John's choices about his sons, he didn't want to cut the Winchesters from his life. Doing that would keep him away from the boys when they needed any type of normal influence they could get. Still enough of a father to keep Dean away from things he wasn't ready for, John left him and Sam at his place for long periods when he went out of town on big hunts. But every time he came back, John was darker and stricter with the boys. It scared Jim to watch sometimes, but once in a while he caught sight of John in an unguarded moment interacting with his children like a loving parent and his faith in the man would be renewed.

As the years went by, and John got more desperate to find his wife's killer, Jim saw less of the Winchesters. John spent more time working on his own, or with his sons, and the boys never met most of the people that had been closest to their father. They didn't know the inner workings of the hunters' loose organization because John kept them away from it. In part, he did it to protect Sam. Despite dragging him from hunt to hunt, and knowing it was only a matter of time before his abilities started to develop, John wanted to keep Sam safe. He didn't trust some of the hunters; he knew that there were those who would want to exploit Sam's abilities for their own gain. He had to keep Sam away from that.

oooOOOoooOOO

John watched as the sun set behind the trees at the edge of Jim's property. The hunter in him was so proud of Dean and how far he'd come in so short a time. At sixteen, Dean just had his first kill and the father in him was devastated that this is what life had in store for his son. He was afraid that this same thing, and worse, awaited Sam. John leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. So many times he would come to Jim's after a hunt and so many times Dean would throw open the door and greet him on the porch. His wide, innocent eyes, searching his father's for some truth that John didn't know. Dean still looked at him that way sometimes, but gone was the innocence and now John knew too many things.

With every year that came, John swore this would be the year he found the demon. This would be the year he would find out how to kill it. But years passed and that didn't happen. Dean became more obedient; he embraced the hunter's life and excelled in his training. Sam got more defiant, though he participated in the training and eventually in the hunts. But John saw the stark difference between the brothers and he had been afraid for years he would lose Sam before they found the demon.

It turned out he was right about that. Sam went behind his back to apply to colleges and managed to get accepted into a prestigious university on a full scholarship. He'd known his boy was smart, but this…They fought, as they did about everything, and John forbade him to go. He even gave him an ultimatum, thinking Sam would back down. Of course he didn't, and now John was afraid that Sam was lost to him forever. Dean was stoic. John knew it had to have broken his heart to watch Sam walk out of their apartment, but he refused to talk about it. That was easier for both of them, he guessed.

oooOOOoooOOO

John ran out of the motel room in Jericho, California knowing everything he had to about the demon. Despite all the protection rituals he'd performed to make the room safe, the demon was close to getting him. It knew John discovered its secrets and needed to neutralize him before the hunter ruined all of its plans. He'd grabbed his journal out of habit, but at the last minute left it in the room. He knew Dean would come looking for him and he hoped Sam would be with him. They'd need the journal more than he would right now.

Dean was twenty-six and his entire life had been sacrificed, not only to fight evil – which John still believed to be a noble calling – but to kill _the _demon. His entire life. He didn't remember what it was like to have a normal family, a normal home. He didn't know how to do anything other than hunt. John often wondered if he'd been fair to his son when he made him a part of the cause, but still believed he'd had no choice. His family was marked; they were targeted. His sons had to know how to protect themselves.

And Sam. He'd been able to live normally for a while, but John always knew the life would come for him with a vengeance. The demon killed Sam's girlfriend, ensuring the youngest Winchester would feel the same need for revenge that John felt. He knew that feeling would make Sam reckless, but he hoped Dean was the same calming influence for Sam that he'd been on John all those years ago.

This _would_ be the year they found and killed the demon because John refused to let his sons suffer any longer.

The End


End file.
